Ivan Moshkin, ataman Katorzhnoy. Under the auspices of the Roman Pope

Cannon drill

On the field, where archers usually checked their weapons, everything was prepared. There were two shields, a shaft was poured, and logs lay in front of the shaft. Pushkari nimbly unhooked the guns from the front, Khvorostov himself tied horses from teams to the pegs, but hung torbs with oats on his muzzles, so as not to be bored.

Zinovy Dmitrievich personally began to measure fathoms from shields. I decided that two hundred fathoms (four hundred meters) would be just right.

— It will be far away, — Evgraf Isakov was concerned.

— Not close, — Zotov agreed.

— Finish, and logs in chips! — Moshkin promised.

“We’ll see,” the foreman smiled, adjusting his mustache.

Ivan crossed himself, and opened the shutter wedge with a lever. Zotov held the projectile, and Isakov wad and kartuz with gunpowder.

— Nothing, Ivan Semenovich, get used to it, — Evgraf Fomich encouraged him.

First, he put down a lead oblong shell, and laid it denser, then inserted a wad and a cap with gunpowder into the chamber. Raised the wedge, and fixed the shutter with a lever. Also, under-arms — no, you’re naughty, tight! With a pickler, he pierced a powder box and inserted a firing tube. He began to aim, knocking out a wooden wedge with a hammer under the trunk. Finally, the trunk of the gun looked exactly at the target. He turned around, looked at his new comrades, crossed himself and poked his finger at the protruding ignition tube.

The shot barked deafeningly. The gun rolled back a little, enveloped in acrid smoke. Ivan’s eyes turned, and he coughed.

— Well, Semenych, get used to it, — and Zotov slapped him on the shoulder, — you will swallow the smoke.

Ivan did not look at the target, fearing to jinx it, but admiring archers had already fled to him. They, standing away from the cloud of gunpowder smoke, saw two broken logs fly up, and earth from a poured rampart.

“Let’s go and see what,” Khvorostov amused.

The cannons left five archers for protection, the rest moved to the rampart. Moshkin approached the shield, in which, away from the middle, there was a hole the size of a fist. He picked his finger thoughtfully without fear of splinters. Traces of lead were on the boards of the shield. Further, the core, apparently without losing strength, hit the fortified shaft. Two logs, not thick though, were broken in the middle, chips and bark were lying around. All this was sprinkled with earth. Evgraf and Andrei lifted pieces of log, looking for the core. Finally, Zotov, with a nail in his hands, picked out a piece of lead from a deep hole, all broken and crumpled from the strongest blow.

— Here, look… — and showed the core to Ivan.

Well, yes, it was already difficult to call it a core. On the body of the projectile, traces of three rifling of the gun barrel, imprinted in lead when fired, were clearly visible.

— Nda… Just pour now. It is clear why, the guns are mostly without rifling…

— Why? Moshkin did not understand.

— Eh, youth… You didn’t have to burn on the stone walls yet… Think for yourself, Semenych, he will scatter lead against the stone wall, and the core should break the wall. And expensive… Okay, our gun, otherwise ordinary, field in two or three pounds — this is how much lead is needed…

— It is necessary to think, — said the young man, — he needs soft lead for rifling, and if… Cast iron core with rifling!

— You can try it, and not to come close, not to grind. The barrel will burst. Although I saw ordinary guns, there the barrel will be two times thinner. Well, let’s see what’s up with the cannon.

Ivan opened the shutter, cleared the chamber, threw out the remnants of the gunpowder case, and looked into the bore. Yes, traces of gray metal were clearly visible on the bronze.

— Well, how is it, — Zotov looked there, — everything is fine! — he shouted to Hvorostov, — now we shoot from the next one. You aim, Semenych, you will.

Now everything was done faster, the gun blurted out, Ivan hit the target, the core was found and taken away.

We returned to prison only in the evening. The foreman stroked the new guns lovingly, and ordered to be put under the canopy, and personally covered with a slingshot.

“From someone else’s eye. With the governor, if he jumps to us, there are different people. They have nothing to look at our goodness, — he explained according to the nodding archers. Oh, you pleased me, brothers, oh pleased. Especially you, Ivan. Here’s a gift for you — and he gave him the fish hooks — more and more fun. But don’t go alone, only with the Cossacks.

— Semenych he well done, — stepped in for the new comrade Evgraf Isakov, — would let the guy go on a visit to Tula.

— I can’t. Trubchev strictly ordered me not to appear there until the summer. Sorry Ivan, service.

— Yes, nothing… We still decided to brainwash…

— You don’t think much, otherwise our guns will fall apart. They shoot good honor to you and praise. It will turn out, I will unsubscribe to Moscow, to the Cannon Hut. There the masters themselves will figure out what and how.

Zotov and Isakov nodded their heads, amazed at the wisdom of the foreman of the prison.

— You, Semenych, do not serch. Have you seen the cannon explode? Isakov asked him. Ivan just shook his head in response, — and I saw… The roar… The flame to heaven, the vent to smithereens, the gunners are nearby. Who is burned, who is killed to death, who has legs and whose heads are torn off. They shout such — do not bring the Lord to hear this again. So jokes are bad with powder potion. Let’s go and eat… Schy how it smells!

And for sure, Moshkin did not even notice that he had not eaten all day. And then the belly himself told him that it was time to eat, and so desperately that older friends smiled.

Tatar fishing

The day was not bad, and Zinovy Dmitrievich allowed Moshkin to unwind, especially since he was for what merits. The river was not far from their serf, and Hvorostov was not too worried. Cossack trips have not met Crimeans for a long time, so the danger was not expected.

Moshkin saddled a horse, calm and not weak. An ordinary such bay gelding. Ivan dressed in a simple gray sermyag, did not take weapons, only a knife hung on his belt.

— Why, craftsman, let’s go? — Stepan Ivanovich Shaly, an old acquaintance of the young man, asked impatiently.

He sat tenaciously, like a molt, in the saddle, holding his burly stallion for a reason. The Cossack was ready for everything — with a saber, squeaked and two pistols.

— Yes, he is an excellent rider, — Demyan Gubnov scratched his strong teeth, — let’s go!

This stanitsa, and the rest of the Cossacks, did not rely too much on “maybe,” but more on a sharp saber and a faithful hand. No one had anxiety on their faces. They went far into the steppe, cutting themselves with the Tatars.

Sagittarius habitually sat down on horseback, and walked towards the river. Two more Cossacks set off with them. Five people, all not alone. Pack horses, two, carried a tent and cereals and crackers with them. The calm road did not portend inconvenience or incident. It’s already warm, the birds are singing. Ivan corrected the sum thrown over his shoulder — there were cunning fishing devices.

They found a suitable place for the tent quickly, made a hearth, and began to cook porridge. The case is short, and pleasant. Ivan was put in a bowl of food, he mixed the brew with a wooden spoon. Millet boiled well, and hunger would make a wonderful and not such a meal.

— Ivan, is it true that you were transferred to the gunners? Demyan asked him.

“I don’t even know,” the Sagittarius answered honestly, “repaired, greased the guns in the prison. Khvorostov was pleased.

— The salary there is more than that of the archers. Agree.

— Yes, I feel good in archers. What sewed on soap to change.

— Yes, you didn’t go to the daughter of the merchant Kanyushkin, — said the Cossack, sometimes looking at the young man. He already blushed with anger — here, drink kvass. Chill.

Ivan tasted a treat poured into a wooden cup. The rest of the porridge was covered with an iron lid, and buried in coals, leaving food for the morning.

“We’ll take turns sleeping. You, Pushkar, were sent here to rest, for your joy. Well, we will draw lots, who will guard their comrades in turn.

— Well, am I better than others? And I have to watch.

Demyan looked at Stepan, and Stepan at Demyan. One of the Cossacks nodded in agreement, the other inexorably disagreed. Finally, Esaul broke five straws, and showed that one is longer than the others.

— Pull, — just suggested Stepan.

Ivan chuckled as he checked his luck. I tried it several times, pressed the straws, and decided.

“This one. ‘he called.

Demyan nodded, oh opened his hand. The straw extended by Moshkin turned out to be long.

“You see that?”

Four went to sleep in a tent, one remained to guard the peace of his comrades. Ivan, now with pistols on his belt and a saber on his side, walked quietly nearby. Bright stars in the black sky were perfectly visible, and the moon, appearing from the cloud, illuminated the earth well. It wasn’t bad sitting here. Nearby, forest animals snooped. not showing people. Something stirred in the bushes, and Ivan spread the branches with a dagger. But it turned out to be just a simple forest hedgehog, disgusted, smelling a person next to him. The young man smiled, and returned to his stump. Half the night passed, judging by the stars, but he did not want to wake anyone to be replaced. So I met the dawn, and lit a fire, putting a pot of water on the slingshot. He put porridge nearby, and it was exactly warm, as the comrades said.

Soon the Cossacks began to wake up, ran to wash themselves to the river. Stepan was dissatisfied.

— You should have woken up Demyan, but yourself in line to rest. Seniority must be observed, the elders must be listened to, another time I will order you to be flogged. Do not fail, — Yesaul finished his strict speech.

— Okay, — Ivan muttered, — the porridge is ready, the water is boiling.

— Now we’ll make a breeze, hot drink.

And Stepan threw four handfuls of dry berries into the pot. Immediately smelled of raspberries and currants. Everyone sat down nearby, and each senior endowed with porridge, and poured a hot drink into wooden cups.

— Now I’ll go fish, — Moshkin warned, — everything is ready for me.

“Don’t go far,” Demyan recalled.

But Ivan moved away — not far, but sat down so that he was closed by an earthen mound from the Cossacks. It was cozy, quiet. He put fishing rods on the ropes, sat down next to him. Water flowed quietly, leaves were gently rustling in the trees, as if lulling. And the Sagittarius imperceptibly curled up, fell asleep…

The awakening was scary. He was already tied up, there was a gag in his mouth that you couldn’t scream, and he was dragged through the ford to the other side of the river. Nearby there were five Crimean Tatars, whom Ivan would have distinguished by smell — strongly dragged lamb fat from these people. On the other side there were two, apparently, horse breeders, and a dozen horses. Not particularly prominent or rich, but strong, steppe breed. The prisoner was tied to one of the stallions, and the outfit, without saying a word, rushed away from the Serif Line. So Ivan got caught like a crucian carp on a hook.

Seven years away from home

At the Tatars

The Tatars walked quickly, stopping just to change tired horses to fresh ones. There were seven people in the detachment, dressed very picturesquely. The riders could go quickly and far about the two horses, but Ivan saw how careful the Crimeans were. Verst after verst now removed the prisoner from his native places. The young man only prayed to himself, calling for the help of the Almighty.

In the late afternoon, when the eldest of the Tatars, who even had a squeak at the saddle, in addition to a bow and arrows, and a saber instead of the usual Tatar club,

with his hand he pointed to the place for the night.

Suddenly there was a roar of hooves, and apparently, the horses were savvy. unlike Tatar. Their eldest ordered everyone to dismount, and their horses turned out to be more obedient than dogs, and also lay down in tall grass. Sedoks at the ready held bows, their boss picked up a squeak. Ivan could not scream with his mouth tied and call for help. He saw tribesmen ten paces away as their helmets and armour glistened. Their main one pointed to the beam, stretching a luxuriously decorated mace in its direction. Russian horsemen drove by without noticing the Tatars.

The steppes sat in the grass until night, then their boss, apparently with a mockery, approached Ivan and patted him on the shoulder, and said something Tatar, the rest laughed. We spent the night nearby, but did not light fire. At night, the prisoner was tied differently. The young man tried to free himself, weaken the ropes, but everything was in vain. Fatigue took its toll, and in the morning he fell asleep. They woke him up just a couple of times kicked under the rib.

The jump continued further, but there were no more Russian trips, and the day passed without incident. By evening, the Tatars, having pulled out a hole, made an inconspicuous fire in it. They cooked a stew on it. And so, the Crimeans began to cut the hardest dried horse meat with knives into thin slices. After talking with his own, one Tatar handed the prisoner two crackers and a plate of water. Moshkin soaked a meager dinner, and swallowed it with pleasure. I wanted to eat very much, and after swallowing even this, the prisoner felt much better.

“Who are you?” — tricky words, asked the main Tatar.

— Posadsky, — without thinking, Ivan lied, — went fishing with the Cossacks. I, at the merchant Thaddeus, brought the supplies to the outpost.

Stepnyak nodded. It was unclear from the face whether or not he believed the captive’s words. Moshkin decided that as a simple posad person it would be easier to redeem himself, or run away if he was lucky and had an opportunity. The ransom for an ordinary person was no more than ten rubles, for a warrior they demanded three times more, for a governor as many as ten thousand.

He was tied up again for the night. Ivan lay not far from the extinguished fire, but there were still hot coals… It was necessary to wait until the enemies fell asleep. The young man already imagined how he would crawl to the fire pit, and burn the ropes. And there, at night, it will hide in the darkness. The Tatars do not have dogs, but the steppes themselves will not find him alive.

But one was sitting on a hill, not closing his eyes. Probably two or three hours later, he was replaced by another, slurping something from his flask. Moshkin did not understand anything in Tatar, and now regretted it. But the steppe carried the service well, and in exhaustion the prisoner fell asleep.

The next day was not much different from the past. The same jump all day, and a meager dinner and a brief nap. But here, the elder, the one whom the other Tatars called Akhmat, slightly covering his eyes, joyfully shouted to his own. Ivan squinted, and for sure, he saw the river, you can see the Don, and the walls of the city with towers.

— Arrived, this is Azak, Russian, — Akhmat told the prisoner.

They drove up to a low rampart, at the gates of which soldiers in strange hats with a helmet, caftans, wide pants, and short boots stood guard. They had excellent squeaks, sabers, hatchets and clubs of weapons. Rather, they were Turks. Apparently, the eldest of them approached Akhmat.

They talked to each other for a long time, they all bickered. Ivan was still looking around. In Russian, it was not the City, but Posad, with many houses and houses behind adobe fences. A little away, the harbor was also visible, where there were huge Turkish ships, as many as three. The vessels are large, unprecedented, about those masts each, and thirty or thirty-five oars on each side.

Azov

A large fortress, eleven towers, everything is stone. True, everything was built of limestone, in some places the stone turned green, and was not clean and elegant. Of course, the fortress looked more sticky than Tula, but he has not yet seen others. There was no huts in the city either, people lived in stone houses, but behind fences made of old stones from disassembled buildings and used again. Trees were visible, everything was strewn with still unripe fruits. Around them walked locals, women with their faces covered to the eyes, and of course, next to men. Those are all settled, bearded, in wonderful caftans, many had daggers behind their belts. But so the place is open, treeless, visible in winter with its winds here it will be very bad, cold.

Next to them were two more chains of slaves, one with chains on their necks. so a common chain united each of these unfortunate. Their clothes were completely dirty from the ground and sweat.

Ivan examined all this while he and ten prisoners were led to adobe sheds. As you can see. there was a whole slave town here, where people deprived of freedom in longing and sadness expected their fate.

Among the Akhmat slaves there was another Cossack, and the rest, judging by the dialect, were Ruthenians, with Chervona, not White, Great Russia. Two of them argued bitterly about something, but Moshkin could not hear. The guard with a stick, guarding them, clattered something and burned both with his weapon. Everyone immediately quieted down.

At their prison there was a guard, two Turks with wonderful guns, the barrel expanded at the end, the young man later found out that this weapon was called a musketon, shoots buckshot, not a bullet, and with sabers. The sabers were good, Ivan even envied. Their guard talked with the soldiers, they opened the room, and began to remove the ropes from the prisoners, and instead shackle them. What is good about them, so you can do something with your hands, but it is clear that now you will not run away. Then the prisoners were driven inside in pokes, and each was given a plate of water and a hard cake.

— Well, that’s all, we disappeared, — said one of the Rusyns, — now we will definitely get to the boat. You can’t escape from there.

— Do not be fooled, Mikula, God will not leave us. You look, the Cossack seagull will give us freedom, but he will send these non-Christians to Hell.

“God forbid, Osip. God forbid. Who will you be, Orthodox? Mikula asked, — after all, a young clapper! Rusyn was surprised.

— Ivan, my father’s name is Semyon, — Moshkin called himself, — we are the drivers, from Tula. Foolishly caught fishing. Karasey caught, but he himself was caught.

Everyone laughed together, although everyone was not laughing. The Cossack approached Ivan, clapped his shoulder approvingly, and said himself:

— Yes, everyone was caught here. Who was taken with the wagon train, who was caught hunting or fishing. My name is Grigory Kireev’s son Ilyin, from Don I am.

— Everyone found themselves here, well… — Mikula said and spread his hands amusingly, ringing with a chain, — they got caught like fish in the net.

Then the door opened, and the Turk raised his musketon, and brought it to the captives, then beckoned to him with his hand. Everyone went to the exit, not knowing what to think. But everything was much simpler — the guard took the shacklers to the latrine, and then again locked them in prison.

***

The morning began early for the prisoners, they were raised before dawn, taken out. In front of them stood Akhmat, already familiar to Ivan. He ordered here, the guards bowed respectfully to him. Women with covered faces brought the prisoners bread, dried fish and water. There was also water to rinse your hands before a meal. They ate slowly, the Tatar did not push them.

Nearby, from another prison, women were taken out. They were without shackles, in already dusty clothes. And they were given the same simple breakfast. Judging by the appearance, Polonyanka was also with Chervona Rus. The dialect was understandable to Ivan, although it differed from his usual language. The Rusyns tried to approach, but then the Tatars jumped up, and drove their fellow tribesmen away from each other with poles of copies. On this, the guards calmed down, and squatted nearby, quickly talking about their own. However, some prisoners did not calm down on this.

“Where are you from, beauties?” ‘a restless Mikula shouted.

— From Volyn, — answered one of the women with a beautiful face wrapped in a scarf.

“And I’m from there. Come back, pass what?

The girl only nodded her head negatively in response, and tore off pieces from the cake, trying not to look at Mikula. Soon Akhmat, familiar to them, came up, and his soldiers were with him. Horses Tatars led about. Approximate the chief led two horses. He brought the horse to the master, he lovingly stroked him, treated him with a delicacy, patted his mane. Then he deftly jumped on a beautiful horse, and moved to the harbor, followed by prisoners, his prey. The shackles rubbed their hands, although they were given burlap to put under hard iron. Chains did not allow to go wide, and slaves made only small steps. All together they rang almost as if they were a trio of horses at a wedding. Small Tatarchats ran around, threw fish bones, shells at prisoners, shouted:

— Urus, urus!

The guards smiled, sometimes gently shook the mischievous on the heads, and only near the harbor itself, drove the evil baby away from the slaves.

Akhmat drove on to the pier, the horse stepped next to the barrels, deftly stepping over obstacles and debris with his smart legs.

But now a Turk came out to meet him with his guards, or soldiers, Ivan did not understand this here. But this nobleman was dressed richly — a sable collar at a brocade caftan wrapped in a rich gold belt. Around the neck is a gold necklace, fingers humiliated by rings. A tall hat with a peacock feather and green saffron soft boots complemented the outfit. And the weapon was to match the outfit — a saber in a golden sheath, strewn with stones, a pistol and a dagger were also with gold handles. Expensive and rich — that’s what the appearance of this mustachioed Turk said. But, he shaved his beard, and his face was fine.